Interlude
by trufflemores
Summary: Short little sick!Kurt fic. Fluff, fluff, fluff. Klaine. COMPLETE.


**Disclaimer**: I do not own Glee or any of its characters; Ryan Murphy and Co. hold that honor. I'm simply writing this for fun, not profit.

"Kurt? Are you – oh, honey. Are you sick?"

"Either the world is ending," Kurt declared, resting his clammy forehead against the crook of his elbow as he sprawled on the blue rug next to the tub on the bathroom floor, "or I am."

Arranging himself carefully on the tub beside Kurt, Blaine dropped a hand to his hair and announced through a yawn, "We still have some Tylenol left. Would that help?"

Kurt moaned, tilting his head until it could rest against Blaine's knee. "God, no." He shuddered, elaborating, "Wouldn't be able to keep it down."

Blaine carded his fingers through Kurt's hair slowly, rubbing the back of his neck thoughtfully after a moment. When Kurt's eyelids fluttered shut in relief, he dared to ask, "Would water help?"

Kurt groaned again.

He hadn't been sleeping well the past few nights, and Blaine knew that he was stressed with work, but it still surprised him to see Kurt in such a state of disarray: hair askew, clothes rumpled, shoulders hunched inward as he shivered compulsively. Fate didn't favor him as he lurched forward and hunched over the toilet bowl, heaving into it as Blaine slid down to wrap an arm around his waist, rubbing his hip comfortingly. "I'm here," he said, resting his curls against Kurt's back and crooning, "Shh, it's okay, I'm here."

Kurt gasped as he fell back, face pale white as Blaine fumbled to flush the contents away, cradling Kurt in his arms properly as soon as he could. "S'okay, baby, I've got you," he said, pressing a kiss to his temple. "Here, let me – let me just – get you a water." It took a little finessing to situate Kurt against the tub in such a way that he wouldn't tip over immediately, but Blaine still felt guilty letting him go even for a few seconds as he climbed to his feet and grabbed a Dixie cup from the medicine cabinet. He filled it halfway and handed it over to Kurt for a quick rinse, the pinched quality to his expression easing somewhat as he sighed and passed it back.

"Do you want to lay down? I can bring you a trash can," Blaine said, setting the Dixie cup aside and rubbing Kurt's back slowly. "Hm? Or I can bring the blankets to you. Whatever you need."

"Can I –" He shuddered hard, and for a moment Blaine was certain that his sufferings weren't over until he relaxed suddenly, slumping against Blaine's hold. "Stay."

"Of course," Blaine assured, resting his cheek against the top of Kurt's head as Kurt buried his face against Blaine's shoulder, breathing slow and raggedly. "I'm not going anywhere. I promise." Humming under his breath, he kept rubbing at Kurt's shoulder as he waited for the worst of the vomiting spell to pass, hoping that maybe Kurt would be able to get some sleep that night, after all. It was already going on two-thirty in the morning, and he knew that Kurt would be more comfortable in their bed than on the cold, cramped tile floor, but he didn't want to push him. Kurt was already miserable enough without Blaine adding to it.

After a time, however, he gently slid his arms underneath Kurt's knees, coaxing him into wrapping his own arms around Blaine's neck in response. "Ready?"

Kurt nodded against his shoulder, tightening his grip as soon as Blaine shifted to stand. Kurt had grown a little, making the negligible height difference in high school rather more substantial in college, but it was still easy enough to lift and carry him the eight feet or so separating them from the bed. Perks of an apartment, Blaine reflected, gently depositing Kurt next to the folded back sheets. "Be right back," he promised, kissing Kurt's cheek before darting off to grab the trash can under the desk and placing it beside Kurt's side of the bed.

Tucking the blankets around him gently, Blaine asked, "Do you need anything?"

Kurt shook his head, letting out a slow sigh and a heavy, "Not now." He still looked too pale for Blaine's liking, but it was late and he knew that any sleep Kurt could snatch would be better than fussing over the minor aches that he couldn't cure, anyway.

Resolving to give him a back rub and a more comprehensive array of sick-combatting foods in the morning, Blaine climbed into bed on his opposite side and snuggled up behind him, draping one arm lightly around his waist. Kurt hummed softly in approval, one arm sliding down so Blaine could intertwine their fingers.

"I've got you," he promised, nuzzling the back of Kurt's shoulder lightly. "Go to sleep, honey."

There would be more Tylenol and fresh blankets and an aforementioned back rub in the morning, but just then, Blaine's presence and the bed were enough to lure Kurt back into sleep. Willing the sickness to pass quickly, Blaine let his own eyelids slide shut as he held Kurt, grateful that he didn't hide the low points anymore, that he allowed Blaine to be with him when he was feeling down instead of pushing him away.

They couldn't fix everything together, but it was always better than when they were apart, and if there was one thing Blaine was determined to do it was to ensure that Kurt never had to suffer alone.


End file.
